


You'll Never Walk Alone

by BuddyLove



Category: Jerry Lewis - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 02:39:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11864919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuddyLove/pseuds/BuddyLove
Summary: RIP Jerry Lewis (Joseph Levitch)  3/16/1926-8/20/2017





	You'll Never Walk Alone

**Author's Note:**

> In Memory of Jerry Lewis, the King of Comedy. You lit up our dark world after a terrible war. You were a friend, a partner, a husband a father and a lover. The world will is a sadder place without you here, but it is a much better place having had you in it for so long. We will miss you, Jerry, but our loss is Heavens gain. May you rest in peace with Dean, Frank and Sammy.

 

 

 

It has been a long a couple of months, and he is just glad to be at home again.                                               

Sandy has been very patient, and that has helped him a lot, but he is just so tired.

He hates hospitals and doctors, has ever since he was a child.

Being home is the best thing he can imagine after being cooped up in that hospital.

His doctors say he is on the mend, but there is a part of him that thinks its over.

He’s done.

He is too tired to keep on going like this.

Nights are hardest.

The lucid sleep and the dreams make him nervous and jittery.

More so than he normally is, anyway.

He hardly has any apatite and thank God Sandy has been patient with that too.

She yells at his nurse to stop pestering him like he is some kid.

Its pointless, if Dean and Frank could not get him to grow up, than what hope did she have.

None.

 

Its funny, really.

He had hoped to go on stage, like Hudini or Dick Shawn.

But here in his home in Las Vegas will do fine.

Go the same way Dean went.

Dean.

He thinks of a pome he heard once and it reminded him of Dean, silly as that was.

_All the days of my week, I write the name I dare not speak.                                                                                                                                                                                     The boy with the chestnut hair, twas my beloved, and my despair._

He is contemplating this, when he hears music playing in the next room.

That does not bother him.

He loves music.

But this song…

He knows this song only to well.

And the voice singing it….

He closes his eyes, trying not to let the pain be what kills him.

If he has to go, it might as well be with a smile, right?

But the song is passionate and relentless.

“My heart cries for you, trys for you, dies for you. My heart longs for you, please come back to me.”

He wants to scream.

Its Dean’s voice, proud and strong and just as youthful and beautiful as it was 1946.

He is crying and he knows.

He listens to it, until the song changes.

And this one is worse.

“Oh we aint got a barrel of money.”

It stops.

Jerry’s eyes widen.

Was they speaker broken?

Christ, what was it waiting for, a reply?

Okay.

Sure.

Fine.

Why not?

“And maybe were raged and funny.” Jerry manages to sing, despite his COPD.

“But we travel along, singing a song…”

He is dreaming.

That what it is.

One of those dreams where you are certin you are awake, but you’re not.

Okay.

“Side by side.” Jerry sings, and the dream radio follows along in perfect time.

The hurt is so deep its crashing him.

Because this really doesn’t feel like a dream.

He pinches himself, and looks down in dismay.

That’s gonna leave a bruise, he thinks.

 

Then the song changes again.

“Love is a flower. It blooms so tender.”

“Look, I don’t know what this is, but if it’s some ones idea of a joke, I ain’t fucking laughing.” He croaks.

This has gone to far.

He closes his eyes and tries to will the voice away.

He is on the verge of braking down and crying when the singing is sudenly so close it has to be right in front of him.

And it doesn't sound anything like a radio now.

As a matter of fact, it sounds...

His eyes pop open.

 

Dean is standing there, smiling at him.

He looks just the same as he had back in 46, as if 72 year had not come and gone.

As if all the hurt and heart brake and pain were just a bad dream.

He is only faintly aware of a strange feeling of breathlessness.

He wants this to be real so much it isn't even conceivable.

"Paul...?" He asks, his voice sounds strange to even him.

More like a thought than a spoken word.

Dean smiles.

Its him.

Its really really him.

But that is not possible, unless...

 

"Do you know how long I've been waiting for you?" Dean asks with a smile.

Jerry laughs.

"Sure. Twenty one years, seven months and forty days, give or take a few hours." Jerry jokes back.

Dean smiles. 

"You know what this is, right kid?"

Jerry smiles faintly.

"Yeah, I know. You're late, you know that? I've been expecting you for a while now, what did you do?                                                                                                                   Get too busy golfing up there and forget about me?

Dean laughs now.

"He, kid, when the Son of God challenges you to a round of golf it's pretty rude to tell him you got other plans."

Jerry chuckles at that.

"I am glad to see death didn't kill your sense of humor."

Dean smiles at him warmly, and perhaps just a little mischievously.

"Hasn't killed yours, either."

Its then that he realizes it.

He's standing.

A thing he has not been able to do in a few years now.

And he he feels lite as air, like he might feel in a dream, but far clearer.

 

"It's time to go home, Jerry. Every ones waiting for you. Frank and Sammy. Your mom and dad and even Patti and Joey."

Jerry turns and looks at the now lifeless body that he had called home since he was brought into this world.

Only a few hours ago it had seemed so important to him to stay in that body.

Now he was elated to escape it.

It was true, he felt sad that SanDe would find him dead soon, but he knew this was for the best.

It was over.

"You have any idea how much I've missed you?" he asks Dean, looking him in what are for all intensive purposes his eyes.

Dean smile.

"Yeah, I know, kid, I missed you too." 

He wraps his arms around Jerry, and its everything it was the first time Dean held him and more.

He gives in to the warm embracing light that now surrounds them, knowing that he will never have to say good bye to Dean again.

As he does so, his life flashes before his eyes.

 

His father and mother singing on the stage, his grandmother holding him when he cried.

Meeting Patti and marring her, meeting Dean and falling hopelessly in love with him.

Gary being born, Dino being born, My Friend Irma and NBC.

As the decades flash before his eyes, he feels strangely detached from the pain they might have caused him before.

The pain can not touch him now.

He sees and hears Dean and his last night at the Copa.

Filming the Bellboy.

His first major heart attack when he filmed Cinderfella.

All of it comes and goes.

Even their last night together, at Dean's 72nd birth day.

He saw Dean in the coffin and remembered the pain he had felt.

But it didn't matter any more.

He was with Dean now, and they would part company again.

 

And now at long last, it was the end.

A life of love, sorrow and laughter.

All of it worth it.

How much money had he raised for the MDA?

How much joy had he brought to countless people the world over?

He had earned his place among the grates.

 

"I love you, Paul." Jerry whispered.

"I love you too, Jerry." Dean replies.

And after 71 years since they became a team, they were together forever at last.

 

 

The End

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
